


AWC and Other Mysteries

by nagi_schwarz



Series: The Oppenheimer Effect [32]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Crossover, M/M, Multi, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7024201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Any, any, family game night." </p><p>Caseworker Fiona makes one of her monthly home visits on family game night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AWC and Other Mysteries

There was something about Casa Atlantica that Fiona couldn’t put her finger on. She went every month for her home visit, and the house was scrupulously clean - she expected nothing less from a bunch of ex-military men, notwithstanding them having a couple of teenagers and an absent-minded scientist in their midst. The household was also impeccably organized. Evan had a chore chart taped to the inside of one of the kitchen cabinet doors. It was color-coded and probably the kind of chore chart used to organize a military base. Oppenheimer the cat had free reign of the house. Ostensibly his cat bed was in the laundry room, but he slept wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, or rode around the house on someone’s shoulders.  
  
Rodney and John were quietly affectionate with each other; Fiona wondered how that played out, what with John being ex-military and still sometimes working with Rodney at the base under Cheyenne Mountain. It would explain their restraint whenever she was around. Cam and Evan were less restrained, openly affectionate, but then from what Fiona could gather, both of them had grown up in big, affectionate families. Every time Fiona spoke to Tyler, he was happy, he was glad to be living here, summer had been awesome, he’d been allowed to help John and Evan with their summer classes, learned a lot about planning lessons and how much time and effort went into running a classroom.  
  
Tyler said he got along well with JD, who was only a couple of years older than him. JD was where things went a bit strange. He acted more like an adult than a teenager, which made some sense, given that his peers at the school were adults and he lived with a bunch of adults. But sometimes he would say something or do something with calm authority and the others would defer to him without question.  
  
“You know,” Evan said, “when I agreed to help Rodney in the lab on a temporary basis, I didn’t sign on to train new waves of marines. I’m super tempted to drop them on their heads at the alpha site. What do you think?” He directed this question to the room at large.  
  
JD said, “I’m no expert, but I bet that’s what they’re amped up for. Danger. Fear. Take ‘em up to the lawn and let T have at ‘em with that super soaker full of jello. They won’t know what hit ‘em. Make sure they know how to laugh at absurd things.”  
  
Evan nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”  
  
And JD resumed kicking Rodney’s ass at chess.  
  
Fiona liked coming over to Casa Atlantica for home visits in the evenings - all she had to go home to was her cat - because Evan was an amazing cook, and he always invited her to stay for dinner and then participate in whatever family activity they had for the evening.  
  
“We don’t do something fancy every evening,” Tyler had told her. “Most nights we do our own thing. Cam and JD work on cars, or JD looks at the stars. Evan paints a lot. John and Rodney play music, or we all sit around and read. But once a week, Cam insists we do something together.”  
  
Tonight, once dinner was over, it was going to be game night. JD had built a ridiculous collection of strategy board games - Chess, checkers, Chinese checkers, Risk, Ticket to Ride, Dominion, Catan (and all of its expansions), Carcassone - and they could either play as one big group or play in two small groups.  
  
Tyler was helping Evan cook - that was the big skill-building project this summer, cooking - and John and Rodney were setting the table.  
  
“Do we really want to play Risk against JD?” Rodney asked in a low voice.  
  
“You’re the one losing spectacularly at chess,” John pointed out.  
  
“I didn’t expect him to be that good at it,” Rodney protested.  
  
Fiona was meant to be helping them. Mostly she was following them all around the kitchen as they opened and closed various cupboards and drawers, amassing a collection of dishes and silverware. Fiona had been allowed to hold the cups.  
  
“He’s probably going to murder us at all of the strategy games,” John said, “unless we form a coalition. If we all gang up on him, he won’t stand a chance.”  
  
Rodney snorted. “Like Cam and Evan will side with us.”  
  
“Tyler will side with us. Just because Cam and Evan side together, if they don’t side with JD, there’s a possibility we could win,” John said.

Rodney looked thoughtful. “A possibility.”  
  
Fiona glanced at the chess board on the coffee table. She didn’t know much about chess, but it was pretty obvious, from the number of white pieces off to the side of the board, that JD was winning.  
  
Dinner was a pleasant affair. As the only lady and also the guest, Cam insisted Fiona be served first, but the men weren’t doing their best to impress, because JD and Tyler broke out into a squabble over the bread rolls almost immediately, and they only stopped because Cam threatened to hide the X-box controllers if they didn’t knock it off. Fiona listened to each of the men check in with each other, about how their days were going. John was in therapy - that was new - but he reported it was getting better. Evan had sprung a pop quiz on his physics class and would be the most hated teacher on campus till John threw a pop quiz at his math class. Rodney was irritated because he project he was working on was going nowhere, and one of the women he worked with - named Vala - hung around the lab being distracting and unhelpful. JD was all signed up for classes in the fall and was marshaling his funds to buy books. Damien, another student at school, had been duped into buying a truly terrible car, and Cam wasn’t sure he could salvage it, but he and Damien were going to give it the old college try.  
  
No one, Fiona realized, offered JD any advice about college.  
  
After dinner, Cam and JD did the dishes - per the chore chart - and then it was time to play games.  
  
Rodney and John’s fears weren’t unfounded. JD could smile sweetly and sweep everyone else’s armies off the board in a blink, the undisputed ruler of the world.  
  
“You’re such a tyrant,” Cam accused as JD packed away the Risk board.  
  
Fiona had to go, write her visit report, but Evan and John were unpacking the Dominion cards.  
  
“Not that much of a tyrant,” JD said. “At least I keep it to one planet.”  
  
“True,” Rodney said. “But still. Did you have to be quite so ruthless?”  
  
JD leaned in and whispered something that Fiona didn’t quite catch but sounded like _AWC_ , which made no sense, and Rodney huffed.  
  
“Right. I keep forgetting. Go easy on the rest of us - us subordinates, all right?”  
  
“There’s no crying in baseball, Rodney,” JD said sweetly.  
  
“I wasn’t crying,” Rodney protested, so loudly that the others turned to look at him in surprise. “And this isn’t baseball.”  
  
“No,” JD agreed. “It isn’t.”  
  
“Tyler,” Cam said, “be a gentleman and show Fiona to the door.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Tyler smiled at Fiona, waited for her to gather up her purse, and walked her to the door.  
  
“Thanks for coming,” he said.  
  
She smiled at him. “Always a pleasure. You’re doing good, Tyler. You still want this? To be adopted?”  
  
“I do,” he said.  
  
“Okay.” And it was. It really was. There was no reason why Cam Mitchell couldn’t adopt Tyler. But Fiona walked away from the house unsettled all the same.  
  
She was halfway through a meeting the next day when she realized: AWC stood for Air War College.


End file.
